


A Walk Around the Pond

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tag from the episode "The Meek Shall Inherit."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walk Around the Pond

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #16 under the pen name Gillian Holt.

_"You did not fail him, Sylvia."_

 

In that one moment they were all frozen in place – the Omega Squad members, Ironhorse, Blackwood, Suzanne and Sylvia Van Buren – each trapped by the horror and intense relief they felt as the body of Molly Stone decomposed on the snow-covered ground of the Portland truck yard.  It was Norah Coleman who moved first, easing up from the crouch she'd assumed in response to Ironhorse's strangled warning.  Her motion freed the others from their paralysis.

The colonel strode forward, pausing briefing to stare down at the dissolved remains.  "Doctor, are you all right?"

"Fine, Colonel," Harrison reassured him, leaning over to pat the man's arm.  "And thank you, and your squad.  You don't know how close that was."

The four-man unit ringed the colonel and the three civilians, each of the soldiers wishing that the two remaining Omegans had not been left at the Cottage for security.

"What the hell's going on, Colonel?" Stavrakos asked, hastily adding, "Sir" when he caught sight of the narrowed black eyes.

"Aliens," was the succinct reply.

"Aliens, sir?" Sergeant Norah Coleman echoed, her Uzi shifting nervously in her hands.

"Yes, aliens," Blackwood said, slipping an arm around Sylvia's trembling shoulders.  "Now, let's get back to the Cottage.  We'll explain everything there."

Ironhorse's eyebrows rose as he nodded to the older woman.  "And Miss Van Buren?"

"She'll be coming with us, Colonel," was all Blackwood said as he headed back to the Bronco, Suzanne and Sylvia following with him.

"Coleman, Goodson, follow Dr. Blackwood back to the Cottage," Ironhorse directed.  "Peterson, you and Stavrakos are on clean-up with me."

"Yes, sir," the foursome chorused.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

It was still cold when Blackwood, Suzanne and Sylvia reached the northern California safe house.  Once he was parked, Harrison carefully removed the makeshift blindfold, the guilty expression on his features testifying to his dislike for the security measure, but Sylvia had insisted.

The two squad members parked next to the Bronco, then headed for the coach house.  They had a few things to tell their Cottage-bound fellows.

Sylvia blinked and smoothed back her grey-sprinkled red hair before examining her surroundings in the pale dawn light.

"It's lovely, Harry."

Exiting the Bronco, Harrison slipped his arm through hers and led them to the Cottage.

"How about some tea?" Suzanne offered.

"Yes.  I'd like that," was the women's distracted reply.

Harrison reached the front door and held it open for the two women to enter.  "Sylvia, are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine, Harry.  I'm just tired, and hungry," she assured him.

The slight weave in her walk did not help assuage Blackwood's concern.

"I'll see what Mrs. Pennyworth has planned for breakfast," Suzanne said, heading off to the kitchen.

Harrison took his almost-stepmother's arm and directed her toward the living room.  "This way," he said softly.  At least there he could start a fire and make her comfortable.

Entering the comfortable room, Blackwood was surprised to find a blaze already snapping warmly on the hearth, and the colonel seated in one of the wing-backed chairs.

"It's about time," the soldier said, standing.  He stepped away from the chair and motioned to Sylvia.  "Please, have a seat, Miss Van Buren."

"Thank you, Colonel," she replied, easing onto the still warm cushions with a sigh.  "This is very nice.  Thank you."

"Here we are," Suzanne interrupted, stopping short when she caught sight of Ironhorse.  "Paul, how did—?"

"Chopper," the colonel explained.  "How do you think we got there as fast as we did?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," the microbiologist admitted, setting down the tray she held, loaded with three cups of hot herb tea.  She carried one over to Sylvia and handed it to her.  "Mrs. Pennyworth's making omelets for breakfast.  They should be ready soon."

The older woman smiled up at Suzanne.  "That sounds wonderful.  Can I just sit here until then?"

"Of course," Suzanne said, reaching out to gently squeeze Sylvia's shoulder.  "I'm going to go help Mrs. P."

Harrison nodded.  "I'm sure the colonel and I can entertain our guest."

"Oh?" Sylvia asked, an amused twinkle sparking in her eyes.  "Do you two have a regular routine, or will this be more spontaneous?"

Ironhorse grinned at Blackwood's surprised expression.  "With Harrison, it's always ad-libbed," he said.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The meal proceeded quietly, the Project members careful to make Sylvia as comfortable as possible, but their close attention to her every move, need and word made it difficult.  Norton and Suzanne excused themselves as soon as they were finished, heading for their basement work stations.  Ironhorse downed the last of his coffee, and with a brief pause to give the older woman's shoulders a gentle squeeze, left for his office and the report he needed to file on the Omega Squads first alien encounter.

Harrison shifted uncomfortably in the quiet room as Sylvia finished her meal under the watchful gaze of Mrs. Pennyworth.  When she was finished, the housekeeper collected her plate and silverware, then disappeared into the kitchen.

"Sylvia," Harrison said.  "I—"

"Before you say something we both know is impossible," she interrupted, "I want you to know that I have to go home soon, Harry."

"But—"

"No.  No buts.  I can't stay here."  The woman rose and began to gather up the few remaining dishes that littered the table.  "We both know that's impossible.  You have too much to do to be watching out for me.  It's for the best, Harry."  She paused, a soft smile lifting the tension from her face.  "But it means a great deal to me that you wanted to ask."

Blackwood nodded, unsure as to how he should respond.

"Can you call for me?  Let them know when I'll be back?"

"I will," he promised.  "We'll take you home after you've had a chance to rest.  Tomorrow morning should be soon enough."

With a nod, Sylvia left the scientist alone and joined Mrs. Pennyworth at the kitchen sink.

"Here, let me take those," the housekeeper said, drying her hands on her apron.

"Nonsense," Sylvia countered.  Placing the dishes on the counter and reaching for a towel.  "Let me help you.  It's the least I can do.  Besides, I like feeling useful, especially in the kitchen."

Mrs. Pennyworth pressed her lips together in a subdued smile.  "Me, too," she confided.  "But we have a dishwasher.  I just rinse—"

"Well, then, I'll rinse.  I'm afraid I wouldn't know how to load the machine properly."

"All right," Mrs. Pennyworth agreed.  "We'll be done in no time."

Together the two women proceeded in a companionable silence.  When they finished, Mrs. Pennyworth made coffee for the Project members and wiped the table, returning a large vase of flowers to the center.  When she returned to the kitchen she found Sylvia staring out the window at the grounds beyond.  "Beautiful, isn't it?" she queried.

Sylvia sighed.  "Yes, it is.  In Portland the snow covers up all the green on the grounds, except the pines, of course, but it's too cold to sit outside."

Mrs. Pennyworth brightened.  "Would you like to take a walk around the grounds?  We have a lovely little pond."

Sylvia turned, her fatigue forgotten and her eyes alive with an almost child-like excitement.  "Could we?  I mean, it wouldn't give away where you are?"

"Heavens no.  Besides, it's simply too nice a morning to spend it cooped up in the house."  Mrs. Pennyworth nodded, then gave the woman a conspiratorial wink.  "I'll even make a thermos of hot coco for us to take along.  And there are some cookies left over from yesterday.  There's a bench under some maple trees where we can sit.  Our resident cranky swan might even be making his rounds – he's been hiding out from the rains for the past few days, but it was lovely yesterday."

"Oh, that would be so nice," Sylvia sighed.  "I can't tell you how long it's been since I've done something like that, with someone other than a nurse, or Harry.  Can I help you get ready, Mrs. Pennyworth?"

"Oh, please, call me Greta."

"Greta," the woman repeated softly, her hands trembling with anticipation.

"Why don't you put a few marshmallows in a napkin for the coco?" the housekeeper suggested, nodding to a cabinet close by as she set about making the coco.  Sylvia carried out the task as the housekeeper heated the milk, stirred in the chocolate, then filled the thermos.  Slipping the small plastic mug that Debi favored into her sweater pocket, Mrs. Pennyworth stopped to wrap several cinnamon cookies in a napkin and added them to her other pocket.  Gathering the thermos and two napkins, she motioned for Sylvia to follow her and together, the two women snuck out the kitchen door like school girls on their way to play hookie.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Outside Mrs. Pennyworth set a slow pace, allowing Sylvia the opportunity to enjoy the damp green grass, sprinkled with wildflowers.  The morning song of the small coastal finches filled the air around them, drawing a smile from the weary woman.  Sylvia's gaze flickered over everything, finally coming to rest on a small lavender flower in the grass.  She paused, bending over to gently touch the delicate pedals.  "It's so fragile," she whispered.

"It looks fragile," Greta agreed.  "But those are the first blossoms every spring, and the last to leave in the fall."

Sylvia smiled up at the housekeeper.  "This is a lovely place.  You must enjoy being here."

"It was rather lonesome before Dr. Blackwood and the others arrived, but it's a home again."

Extending her hand, Mrs. Pennyworth helped Sylvia stand and they continued on to the pond.  Reaching the still waters, they proceeded to the far side before they reached the bench and took their seats.  Greta poured them each a cup of the hot coco, and set the cookies out between them while Sylvia carefully added three marshmallows to each of their cups, leaving the remainder with the cookies. 

They watched the lone white swan as he circled closer to the two women, hoping for a few cookie crumbs.  He wasn't disappointed.

"Do you know why Harry and the others are here?" Sylvia asked at last.

Mrs. Pennyworth nodded solemnly, then took a sip of the sweet, hot liquid.  "Yes.  They tried to keep it a secret at first, but Tom and I were briefed before they even arrived."

Sylvia watched the housekeeper's eyes grow moist.  "Was Tom your husband?"

"Oh, goodness, no.  Tom was a friend, a dear, irascible old friend.  He and my husband worked together in London during the second World War, and Tom was his best man when we married.  Bernard was English.  We worked in Berlin after the war, until 1953 when the aliens attacked London…"  She shook her head to clear away the haunting memories.

"You're alone?" Sylvia asked, nibbling at a cookie.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, but I have plenty to do, keeping up with this group.  I wish Debi were here.  She's Suzanne's daughter, a truly delightful child.  She's visiting her aunt and uncle in Ohio."

"I wish there was more I could do…" Sylvia trailed off.  "But there's just no way to know how I'll be one day to the next."

Mrs. Pennyworth leaned over and patted the woman's hand.  "You're fine."

"For the moment," was the soft reply.  "I really am mad, but not so crazy that I don't love and worry about Harry, and now these fine people who work with him."

"Dr. Blackwood's a fine scientist.  I'm sure he and the others will find a way to defeat these horrid creatures," Mrs. Pennyworth reassured as she refilled their cups.

"Clayton was like that.  A fine scientist," she said, then smiled shyly, "and a very handsome man.  But in the end the aliens defeated him.  Humans had deserted Clayton.  He was alone, except for Harry and myself, and then the madness started to overtake me and there was only Harry."

"But Dr. Blackwood isn't alone.  He has all of us, and the General, why even the President's on his side.  The mistakes of 1953 won't be repeated, Sylvia."

Sylvia took a second cookie.  "I pray you're right," she whispered, too afraid to really hope herself.  "Did you know that Harry used to dream he was Clayton?  He'd call and talk to me about the dreams.  He was trying to warn them about the aliens, trying to get someone to listen, but they were only stone statues.  He was watching the world destroyed, but they wouldn't listen."

"Thank God they're listening now," Mrs. Pennyworth soothed.  "Colonel Ironhorse, Suzanne, Mr. Drake, they've all listened, and they believe.  One day we will be free of this menace.  I can feel it in my bones, and my bones have never told me wrong."

Leaning back and smoothing her dress over her knees, Sylvia smiled.  "He was always such a good boy.  Harry, that is; so bright and full of questions.  I wonder sometimes if we did the right thing, telling him about the aliens."

"From what Dr. Blackwood has told me, the memory of the warship that killed his parents was far too strong to be forgotten.  He needed to know, to do what he could to ease that pain."

"I feel like I've failed him.  His mother and father gone, Clayton was always so caught up in his research.  I tried to fill the void, but I couldn't.  He was perceptive, though.  He saw that I was getting sick.  It was just one more burden placed on those thin shoulders…"

Mrs. Pennyworth leaned forward and took Sylvia's hands in her own.  "You did not fail him, Sylvia.  He's the man he is because of you.  He and the others will win this war, in no small part thanks to you and Dr. Forrester.  Remember that."

Leaning forward, Sylvia gave the housekeeper a hug.  "Thank you."  Sitting back, she used the empty napkin to dry her eyes.  "The coco was wonderful."

"Would you like some more?"

"Yes, I think I would."

Mrs. Pennyworth filled their cups with the remainder of the treat.

"Thank you," Sylvia said.  "And thank you for watching out for them.  I feel better, knowing that you're here."

"You're welcome."

The two women fell into quiet conversation as the sun climbed slowly over the northern California safe house.


End file.
